A Hawk's Perch
by meteor9
Summary: It all seems like a waste of time, but is there something more to this girl? [On Hiatus]
1. State of Affairs

**Chapter 1**

**State of ****Affairs******

**A/N: **Guess what this means?  
  
**Trina:** You got your new laptop, right?

**A/N: **Yup, a long time ago! And now I'll replace the old Chapter 1 rant as well as the chapter itself! Hooray!

**Trina:** It certainly odd seeing a full screen after all these months…

**A/N:** Aye, that it is…. I'm scared…..

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**Chapter 1 **

**State of Affairs**

Forsaken. It is the only word that can describe the fate of this planet, this hell known as Filgaia. To most people, endless desert and badlands are the entirety of the world. But to the lucky few who reach the edge of land, their world opens to include wide, rolling seas.of sand. Occasionally, dotted around the barren landscape, there are some bushes, and a few trees, but they are nothing more than stubble on the face of this planet, the rest removed long ago. Out of the wastes, creatures have started to turn fierce, becoming the monsters from fairy tales and mythology.  
  
Still, humanity presses onward. Countless villages dot the fields and deserts. Farmers struggle to draw nutrients from the dry, scorched earth. Remarkably, meager vegetables and fruits sprout from the cracked soil. Children roam within the borders of their villages, laughing as kids do, I guess. Young men work the fields or the mines, young women run the local inn, or take care of the children. The old complain with each other, always certain that Ol' Jaspar is cheating at poker, even if they're playing rummy.  
  
Some people can't take this life. Such people are divided among three groups. First, there's the Outlaws. These guys are the scum of Filgaia. They're murderers, thieves, terrorists, muggers, rapists, and many other wonderful professions. They've given up on humanity, and just want to live for two things: themselves, and the moment. The next group is the Arkists. These guys are a little harder to explain. Arkists are members of the Ark of Justice. It acts as a world church and as a world police power. Most of them are zealous bastards, and believe only in the shit that spews forth from their mouths. But, they usually do a good job of keeping order. However, there are many cases where the Arkists can't handle the Outlaws. That's where the Migrant Hawks come in. I guess you could call them bounty hunters. The only thing is that Migrant Hawks never settle down. They don't have fixed employers like bounty hunters do. 'A Hawk is His Own Boss' is the general credo.  
  
If I had to pick the most well known names of any group or organization, I'd have to say the Council of Seven, Maxwell Rose, and Jet Enduro. The Council of Seven leads the Ark of Justice. No one really knows who they are, or if they're even real. Hell, the only record of their existence is all the edicts and laws they pass. No one even knows how to get into the damn thing. It's all too secretive for my tastes. Next up is Maxwell Rose. By far, Rose is the most nefarious, notorious, and ruthless Outlaw in recent history. Even still, Rose is as damn secretive as the Council of Seven. Is it a man? Is it a woman? Who knows? All that's known is that wherever Rose travels, destruction follows. It's like a humanoid typhoon, only no one's ever seen it.  
  
And then there is Jet Enduro. Of all of the Migrant Hawks, he is the only one that the whole of Filgaia knows by name. There isn't a man, woman, or child alive who hasn't heard of Jet's exploits. He has the most confirmed captures of any hawk, as well as the most confirmed kills. Grey Dog McMillan, Vilansky the Horn, Green-eye Gerogero; all of them have fallen, thanks to him. 

There have been many tales and legends told of his efforts, although many are over-embellished, and some aren't even true. But there is one story that I know of, one that is just as unbelievable as some of the myths, yet actually happened.   
  
My name is Jet Enduro, and this is my story.

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**A/N:** Well, I didn't change much, but I do like it better this way.


	2. Jaded for Jewels

A/N Okay, I told you guys this one was longer. See? Look at that! Now, for all you J/V fans out there like myself, I assure you that Maya will go away soon, okay? So don't get angry! Once again, I don't own Wild Arms 3. And that doesn't bother me.  
  
Chapter 2 Jaded for Jewels  
  
Three years. I don't think you understand. It's been THREE YEARS since I had my last capture. It's not like I don't try anymore, it's just that there's no one out there worth my effort. I almost took up a job to hunt down the Cascade gang, but by some stroke of stupidity, they wound up in prison on their own accord. I suppose it's a good thing that there isn't any nasty criminals anymore, but still, I need work, damn it! So to pass the time, I've been hanging out at Gunner's Heaven. I suppose I should be complacent here, it is a battle area and all, but there isn't anyone here who can really challenge me. The tournaments don't pay as well as bounties do, either. It could be worse, though; I could be stuck in some dead-end rut like Little Twister. But, I digress.  
  
Today is March 25th. Once again, I sit out in the lobby of Gunner's Heaven. It's a very inviting atmosphere. The walls are all made of huge granite blocks, as is the floor, and the room is dotted with some cheap wooden chairs and tables. Top it off with the medieval torches, and you've got yourself a place to call home. Even I find the place depressing sometimes.  
  
"Hey shorty! How are ya today?" I never noticed she was there until she gave me a little peck on the cheek. She was a stunning blonde, although I detect a bit of a tomboy in her. Tomboy or not, she's the only Hawk I know that wears a dress into battle.  
  
"Why must you call me that, Maya? You've barely got two inches on me." I stood up to prove my point. She just laughed and wrapped her arms around my waist. "So I take it you haven't found any good jobs either?"  
  
"Oh, there was a few offers here and there. Of course, I didn't want to associate my good name with those dregs," she muttered in a haughty tone. "But I did find an interesting lead."  
  
"Oh? Then tell me."  
  
"Nope!"  
  
"Aw, come on, Maya. Couples shouldn't hide things from each other." I brought my head closer to hers.  
  
"Well, I'll give you the info, but ONLY if you get me a really nice gem." She said, with a nice, sultry touch. It always sends shivers down my spine. Fun, pleasurable shivers.  
  
"I'll have to think about it." I closed my eyes, and went in for the kiss. Instead I found my mouth on her palm. Damn it, I hate it when she humiliates me like that!  
  
"You're not sweet-talking out of this, Jetty-boy. I want a gem, and you want the info. You know what you have to do."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"That's what I like to hear! I'll be waiting in the inn, so don't take too long!" With a triumphant smile, she marched to the counter and reserved a room.  
  
To no one in particular, I muttered "Maybe she'll let me stay the night."  
  
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"So how'd you get involved with a girl like Schroedinger? I heard she's a real." He saw my glare. ".particular person."  
  
"Clive, not every woman can be as charming as your wife. And besides, it's none of your damn business."  
  
Clive Winslett and me, we go way back. He may be ten years my senior, but that doesn't matter. He's been my best informant. I don't hear from him as much as I used to, ever since he married Catherine. He said something about not wanting to drag her into this business, and I guess I understood. Luckily, he still kept his ears open for anything big.  
  
"Jet, I think you should find someone a bit less conceited. You know, like-"  
  
I finished the thought for him. "Catherine? Didn't you hear a word of what I just said?"  
  
He held his hands up in surrender. "I'm only trying to help."  
  
"If you want to help, tell me something good. Hear anything about any gems or crystals?"  
  
"Actually, there is a rumor."  
  
"Yeah? What is it?"  
  
"But I've got something better than that."  
  
"Well, tell me both then, damn it!" I have to admit, I was never able to keep my patience around this guy.  
  
"It'll cost ya."  
  
I guess I glared pretty hard, because he shrank into his seat!  
  
"Sorry, Jet, I was kidding! I'll tell you everything." He took a swig of his root beer. God, that woman made him soft! He used to be able to drink me under the table. Sure, I was only sixteen at the time, but still. "I've heard that you're in a rut, career-wise, right?" I nodded. "Well, I've got quite the catch for you, kid. Someone found evidence that Maxwell Rose was recently in Boot Hill."  
  
I nearly jumped out of my seat. Maxwell Rose?! The world's most infamous criminal, in my grasp? Hell yes, I'll take that chance!  
  
After I take care of Maya.  
  
He allowed my to regain my composure before he continued. "One of my friends from the business found this." He pulled a piece of white leather from one of the many pockets of his red trenchcoat. The leather had a rose embroidered on it. "You recognize that? The only other place that this symbol was found was at Harilly Manor."  
  
Harilly Manor was the scene of Rose's first crime. The entire family was slaughtered during the night, and all the evidence that was found was a white, leather strip with the rose pattern, just like the shred that Clive had!  
  
"So, Clive, you're saying that someone you know just happened to find this? Or is there something you're not telling me?"  
  
"Huh? What do you mean? I assure you, there's nothing out of the ordinary. Well, besides that fact that this is Maxwell Rose we're talking about."  
  
"Whatever. What about the gem thing? I don't wanna be castrated by Maya."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Nothing! Just tell me the damn lead!"  
  
"Damn, kid, calm down! There's a ruin northwest of here that's supposed to have some nice gems. Maybe you can find something she'll like."  
  
"What? I never told you why I was."  
  
"I kinda figured it out. Obviously, you're not into jewelry, and that 'castration' outburst didn't help you."  
  
"Ugh. thanks, man. I owe you one."  
  
"If that's the case, could you try to find an extra gem? I can give it to Catherine, and you can consider us even."  
  
"That's good enough for me. How long will you be here?"  
  
"I'll wait for you to come back. Who knows, maybe I'll have to come rescue you! Ha!"  
  
I let out a sarcastic laugh, and walked out of his room. It was a real stroke of luck that Clive happened to be staying at Gunner's Heaven. Although, he never told me why he was here. I didn't think Catherine would let him come to a battle arena.  
  
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Sometimes I have to wonder about certain things. For example, right now I wonder why all of these ruins seem to have been designed around me using my boomerang. I have to wonder these things because I don't want to go insane from boredom. This place is endless. From the outside, this ruin looked like a small, stone building, no more than four stories in height, and each side was roughly one hundred feet long. Of course, whoever built this thing did so on top of a cave, because I've gone down at least thirty flights of stairs since I arrived here, and I saw no signs of it ending anytime soon.  
  
Wait a sec. There's a dodecahedron crystal on the wall up ahead. That can mean only one thing. The ancient peoples of Filgaia must have been a magical bunch, or else how could you explain why smacking a crystal would open a door? It was way out of my reach, and across deep pit. I looked over the edge to see if I could find the bottom, but I only saw darkness smiling back at me. I looked back at the crystal, and I realized that it was behind a large pillar. If I moved to a more advantageous position, the crystal would have been out of range of my boomerang. So I needed to rely on my throwing skills in trying to get the boomerang to curve around the pillar and then hit the crystal on the return arc. Piece of cake. I heard the clink of the crystal meeting metal, and I heard my boomerang clatter off into the dark pit. Now, if this was a normal boomerang, I'd be worried. I'd never be able to get it out of that pit. But my boomerang is different. I found it six years ago in some random ruin. Whenever it's not in my possession for more than thirty seconds, it somehow reappears on my back, which is pretty helpful.  
  
It was only then that I realized something. The darkness smiled back at me? As I thought this, a hideous shriek resounded below me. I looked down a saw the giant head of a snake rushing towards me from below. I fell backwards to the ground just as the head reached my level, and the creature sped straight upwards and smashed into the ceiling. Apparently it wasn't to smart, which is good; I'm almost out of ammunition for my ARM, the Airget-lamh. I finally got a good look at my attacker as it turned in midair to face me. It did look like a giant viper, except it had four, bird-like pairs of wings at set intervals along it's body. It charged at me again, this time flying barely a foot off the floor. So, all I had to do was jump. I flipped in midair and squeezed off a decent gatling of shells into the monster's enormous head. I figured that it was dead when I landed on top of it's still form, and it didn't react. So I severed it's head with the blade on my boomerang for good measure. It took it's fangs, too; you never know what these things are worth.  
  
"Whoa, that was pretty impressive, punk!"  
  
Who the hell said that? I whirled around to the room's entrance, and saw the most ridiculous get-up in all of my experience. This guy was wearing leather like a fetishist, and what appeared to be half of a leather skirt was wrapped around his leather pants. No, those are chaps. He's wearing denim under them. No shirt, though, just a leather vest and some bizarre, tribal thing. Top it off with some long brown hair and some weird white stripe, and you've got yourself a version of this weirdo. Hold on, is he wearing white lipstick? "So what are you supposed to be, chump?"  
  
He struck an offended pose and blurted "I am the renowned Gallows Carradine! You should be honored, punk!"  
  
"Carradine? Why does that sound familiar? Oh, wait, aren't you the guy who got struck by lighting six times because you stood on top of a windmill during a thunderstorm?"  
  
"What! It was only four times, punk! And besides, I was defending the city from beasts!"  
  
"Wait. Oh yeah! You were at the wrong location, too. You were supposed to be guarding Claiborne but you wound up outside of Little Twister, right?"  
  
"Aw, damn it kid! What makes you think you're so big and bad? What's your name, punk?"  
  
"Jet," I replied nonchalantly. "Jet Enduro." It's something I'd rehearsed for years.  
  
"Bullshit. A little punk like you? That's pretty funny! Come on, be serious. Who are you?"  
  
"Hey, if you don't believe me, it's not my fault. See ya," I called as I turned to walk out of the room.  
  
When I reached the door, I heard him mutter, "No way, that couldn't have been him, could it?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------  
  
I got back to Gunner's Heaven the next morning. I didn't find any gems in the whole damn ruin, either. I did pick up a few more fangs, though. I gave a few to Clive for his help, although he said he wasn't really expecting anything. So, I had to face Maya now. Cross your fingers.  
  
"What!! Nothing at all!? What kind of crap are you trying to pull, Enduro?" She used my last name; this can't be good.  
  
"Jeez, Maya, I endured thirty floors of hell for you! Doesn't that count for something?" So I exaggerated a little. It wasn't that bad.  
  
"It's not worth any Gella, that's for sure!"  
  
"If it's Gella you want, then take these." I pulled out the remaining fangs I had and handed them to her. She almost smacked them out of my hand, but she stopped.  
  
"Wait, are these Oroboros fangs?"  
  
"Oroboros? A big snake with wings?" She nodded. "I guess so. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Gimme! These things are worth a fortune! I can get six-thousand Gella a piece!"  
  
Damn it! I should have gotten them appraised first! Oh well, maybe I'll get the info now. "So, what's your secret lead?"  
  
"Well. okay. I heard a rumor about Maxwell Rose from some guy down the hall. He said Rose was seen in Boot Hill."  
  
"No. no.. no! I knew that already! And when did you talk to Clive? Why'd he tell you that? What the hell!!"  
  
"Sorry, no refunds, shorty!"  
  
I vented for the next four hours.  
  
A/N Maya's a bitch, ne? (What does that mean? I'm shooting in the dark, here.) Sorry, J/M fans, these two will never end up together in my stories, even if I have to kill one of 'em! Wait, I didn't mean in this story! Come back! Come baaaack!! 


	3. On a Rail

Chapter 3 On a Rail  
  
A/N Wow! After reading so many stories with ransoms on reviews, I was expecting like 1 over the next month. Yet I got 7 already! Hoo-rah!!  
  
Sorry for the delay, it was a combination of college, research, overbearing work schedule, idiot brothers, writers block (two hours on a paragraph.), huge english essays, tests, and .hack//outbreak.  
  
Okay, mainly it was .hack//Outbreak. Go figure.  
  
I'm trying to make Jet more Jet-like, and Clive more Clive-like, so hopefully they'll be in character within a chapter or two.  
  
I'm a bit relieved, however, that no one noticed that blunder I made in chapter 2. Of course, if you didn't find it, I won't bring it up! Ha ha!  
  
Okay, so it was during the conversation with Clive. It turns out that Jet did, in fact, mention Maya wanting a gem. So I think I'll go fix that.  
  
And I think I might put Maya with Gallows. Reading Hypes' story made me think of the two together (don't know why) and I think it would be absolutely hilarious.  
  
Hypes: Well, the drifters are basically the outlaws and hawks rolled into one, so technically they're there. Baskars, however- I don't know yet! I'll see if I can throw Asgard in somewhere along the line. (What do you mean, Gallows is Asgard? I don't get it..) As for the nazi law, it's more of a hippie conspiracy. You see, they hate materialistic people, and that defines Maya. So they threatened me with Cumbayas and daisies until I gave in. As to a western theme. I guess I can see it. It's gonna get sci- fi-like at the end though, but only slightly. (The Filgaia Theory and the Ark will be involved.)  
  
The Black Gryphon: I read your bio about the retirement, and I feel that I'm gonna miss out on some great writing, now. If only I came here earlier!! Anyvay, you're right about those other heroines. (I also forgot Rinoa. how stupid of me!) I'm just peeved about the whole 'Hot Pants' Yuna thing. Grr. As for new chapters, I can try to get one out either weekly or bi-weekly. I can only access the net on Wednesdays and Fridays.  
  
Teefa85: There's nothing wrong with laptops. I've done everything on mine for the last year or so, and I love the freedom of it. Then again, someone sat on it and I'm typing through a mess of blue liquid crystal stains. I kinda assumed that no one would be upset by the J/M thing, but thanks for the reassurance/advice!!  
  
Kanon, Teh Bored Person: You're technically half-right. (They're both VERY important in the story.) I can't elaborate any more than that. Sorry!  
  
aya-yahiko: I'm glad you enjoyed it! And, uh, are you okay? It seems that you got trampled by those 3 or 4 J/M fans.  
  
On the entertainment front, Kill Bill, Quentin Tarantino's new film, is, according to Lucy Liu, influenced by anime and spaghetti westerns. Hm. What else do we know like that? I'll give you a hint: You're reading about it.  
  
And I still don't own Wild Arms. Besides, I'm going to take over Square- Enix once I finish my Business major.  
  
Okay, on with the story!  
  
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I was finally able to get a ticket to Midland Station on April 3rd. The Ark of Justice had shut down the railways for a while, all because of a supposed threat to 'world security.' Of course, that can mean three things: there was a terrorist threat on the trains; the Ark wanted to subdue a planned protest against it; or they were trying to cover something up. It doesn't matter to me, really. Either way, I'm gonna miss Maxwell Rose by the time I switch trains and buy another ticked at Midland to get to Boot Hill. I really wish I'd kept one of those Oroborus fangs.  
  
Sunset Peak was swamped with desperate travelers who wanted nothing more than to get away from this hellish continent. The only hints of civilization are Gunner's Heaven and this station, and yet they are days apart. So, after being beaten in the battle arena and then wandering the desert for a week, tensions among ticket-goers are running high. This whole thing is one shove or push away from erupting into a bloodbath. And as fun as that would be, I really have to get to Boot Hill as fast as possible. Rose moves fast, or at least real stealthily, so every second counts. After a three hour wait for boarding, my train was finally underway.  
  
Great, I'm stuck behind some tall jerk, and he's wearing a ten-gallon hat, too! I don't like to admit it very often, but I am short. I'm talking five-foot-four, here. So this six-footer in front of me is completely obscuring my vision of the seating map. All I want to do is find where seat E12-11C is, and then go to sleep, damn it! Who is this chump, anyway? He smells like a wet cow.  
  
It turns out I was on the wrong car anyway. They stuck me somewhere in second-class, even though I'd paid first-class fare. Oh well, anything is better than Gunner's Heaven. I finally found section E12, squeezed into the back of car 8. That's good, because I hate getting stuck in the middle seats. It's easier to escape from back here, just in case. There's row 9, row 10, ah, row 11! Seat C is on the inside, though. So, I'll jump out of the window if I have to, no problem.  
  
Oh, no. It's that tall jerk from before. He's in the seat next to mine.  
  
"Move it. I have to get in."  
  
I had this feeling that I should have just leapt through the window. And my instincts are usually right.  
  
"Hey, it's you, punk! How ya been?" The freak gave me a huge grin, his white lips blending in with his teeth.  
  
"Carradine?! Damn, this is going to be a long trip."  
  
"Come on, sit down! We're gonna have fun, me and you! Ha ha!"  
  
I glanced nervously at him as I slid past into my seat. If I jump now, I might be able to catch the next train.  
  
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Three hours into the train ride, we emerged from the tunnel under the sand ocean. Gallows was becoming increasingly annoying; pestering me to trade anecdotes of our captures and kills. He still didn't believe that I'm Jet Enduro, though. I looked out the window, and therefore away from Gallows grating rendition of 'Home on the Range'. One of the nice things about returning to Midland is the greenery. This was one of the few areas on Filgaia that wasn't covered with deserts and badlands. It sure was much easier to travel over.  
  
Suddenly the train rocked violently, cutting off Carradine mid-verse, and then it started to tip onto its side. My side! Quickly I leapt up and planted my feet against the wall that was seconds away from becoming the floor, and just in time. Three incredibly large men came crashing down out of their seats across the aisle, crushing that inept fool Gallows underneath, who still had no clue as to what was happening. I saw his hand twitching from underneath the unconscious men. I whipped out my Airget- lamh and shot out the window above me, and vaulted off of the stack of bodies onto the side, now the roof, of the train.  
  
From my new perch, I could see that the engine car had been completely destroyed, as if it had been ripped to pieces by an explosion. I also saw sacks being tossed out of the bottom of car three. I jumped down and quietly ran over to the third car. Hearing voices, I flattened against the bottom of the train.  
  
"Hurry up, would you two? We still have to lug all this junk around to the front!"  
  
"Sure thing, boss."  
  
"And god damn it, zip up your fly!"  
  
They didn't sound too smart, which was odd, considering the magnitude of the stunt they just pulled. It looks like I can get a nice bounty out of this trip. Once I was certain that no one was near the entrance hole, I quietly slipped inside. I took up a more advantageous position hiding behind an overturned crate. Peeking out from behind the crate, I was able to get a good look at the three brigands. The first one was taller than the rest, but was definitely the least imposing. He was wearing a rather simple outfit, nothing more than a white shirt, tan pants, and comical suspenders. His bearded head was topped with a tiny little hat, probably a one on the gallon scale. If he was any more generic, I would've puked. The next guy wasn't so bad. He, too, had an ordinary get-up, white shirt, suspenders, and jeans. What set him apart was his face. It had a sinister look to it, and the fact that most of it was hidden under a scarf accentuated the look.  
  
However, when I went to look at the third, he was no longer in sight. I leaned out a little further, hoping to see where he went, when something pulled back on my shoulder. I immediately had the Airget-lamh leveled as I spun around to see my would-be assailant. Expecting to see the third member of the attackers, I was shocked to see that idiot Gallows behind, holding his finger up to his lips, in a 'hush' motion. I almost shot him.  
  
"What the hell are you doing!" I whispered, though clearly louder than I should have. Fortunately the robbers didn't hear me.  
  
He took a quick look around his side of the box before he answered. "The blue-haired guy is sitting on this crate! If you kept on peeking around like that, you'd have been right in his line of site!"  
  
I stared at him in disbelief, finding it against all logic that this chump actually saved my ass. Well, I probably could've taken all three of them, but still.  
  
The leader, who by now I'd assumed was the blue-haired one, started barking orders again. "Romero, go look outside, and make sure we ain't got company! Dario, go look in the back again, we might've missed it! And didn't I tell you to zip up your damn fly?!"  
  
They both answered in unison, "Right, boss!", before splitting up. The shadey looking guy went outside; must've been Romero. So that leaves Dario as the cookie-cutter bandit. He leisurely stumbled over to our side of the car. Now that is was two against two, it was time to make my move. As Dario approached my position, I popped up.  
  
"Yo," I muttered as I drove my fist into his chin, sending him flying backward into another crate. I motioned for Gallows to keep an I eye on him when suddenly I felt a searing pain in my arm. Beside me stood their leader, brandishing a nasty blade attached to the end of an ARM, my blood still dripping off of it's tip.  
  
"Yo, yourself, punk," quipped the blue-haired freak. With my good arm, I raised the barrel of the Airget-lamh to his face, and smirked.  
  
"I'd drop that little pig-sticker if I were you." He actually laughed at that. Just as I was about to pull the trigger, something heavy hit me over the head.  
  
"Take that, ya sneaky varmint! Nobody uppercuts Dario an' gets away wit it!" He clubbed me again, and this time my vision faltered for a second.  
  
I looked over to Gallows and yelled "Do something you idiot!" He got up and cocked his modified Coyote ARM, but as he did the scrawny, creepy bandit tackled him into an iron crate, knocking him unconscious. Great, I thought, this'll turn out well. Dario whacked me over the head again, and this time I blacked out. Before I did, though, I heard the leader yell, "Dario, be careful with that thing! Those bastards won't pay for a broken scepter!"  
  
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I woke up on a shabby cot in some stone building, my head still pounding with pain. Someone had bandaged my arm up during my blackout, although it still stung like crazy. Something about this place was making me nervous, so I couldn't just lie around. I got out of the cot and stumbled around a bit, my eyes focused on the ground in front of my, and walked over to what I thought was a wall. Without looking up, I put my hand out to rest on it, only to discover that there was no wall there; it was a railing! In my current state, I was unable to shift my balance back, and wound up flopping off of the balcony, landing hard next to the cauldron in the main room. I fell back into unconsciousness.  
  
A/N Guess where ol' Jet is now? I know, this is awfully short considering I haven't updated in a month, but there really isn't much I can add to this chapter. This was mainly an action one, and the next one'll be mostly dialogue. Early renditions of this scene had a crazed Janus clobbering Jet with the Ark Scepter in a cartoonlike fashion, but it worked out better this way. And I know I never actually mentioned Janus or the Ark Scepter by name in this chapter, but you guys probably figured it out by now anyway, huh?  
  
Next Up: River Cascade! The Baskars inform Jet and Gallows of Janus' intents, and the two chase down the Cascade gang! Who will survive?  
  
BTW, once Virginia shows up, there'll be no more 1st person Jet! It'll be 3rd person all the way till the end! So enjoy it while it lasts!  
  
Another BTW: It seems that not only did Bee Train animate Wild Arms 3 and .hack, they also worked a little bit on FLCL! Weird, huh? 


	4. River Cascade!

A/N   Well, I'm back.   I CAN'T do this 1st-person anymore!  It's driving me insane, so it's gonna stop now!  Sorry, Hypes, I know you want it to stay, but it's got to go if this story will ever be finished!

And no, Ginny is not in this chapter.  She's about….. WAIT!  I can't reveal so much! What am I thinking?!

 Debatin' whether or not to introduce one of those 'muse' type characters.  If I ever do decide, I'll have auditions.

I moved the CRRS to the bottom, so that it's easier to read the story.

Um… yeah….

I don't own WA3.  Never will.  I won't make any money from this, either.  In fact, it'll probably cost me in the end.  Oh well, such is life.

Chapter 4

River Cascade!

            He woke up in the cot again, this time his head trauma was complimented by a sore back.  Taking a quick look around, Jet realized it was early morning.  Pale light streamed in from the windows, giving the stone building a surreal look.

            "So you're awake.  That's good."

            Jet's eyes snapped wide open, and began to dart around, searching for the owner of the voice.  He found the origin, a short, stooped old woman, probably in her seventies or eighties, sporting a feathered headdress, a wooden cane, and a very detailed, native dress.   Despite her age, her face bore a strong determination, and as such, really didn't look too happy.

            "Ugh…where am I?" was what Jet stammered out, his head ringing.

            "Baskar Colony.  Some passengers from that train wreck brought you and my good-for-nothing grandson here."  She thrust her can at the next cot over, jabbing the occupant in the face.  "Wake up!"

            "Aw, geez, granny!  I was having a great dream!"

            "Go get some firewood, and get the fire going downstairs."    When nothing happened, she closed her eyes and shouted "Now, idiot!"

            The other person leapt to their feet, and started heading over to the stairs.  On the way past my cot, he stopped and said, "Hey, you finally woke up, punk!"

            _Great, I'm bunking with Gallows now,_ Jet thought. "So, who are you supposed to be?"

            "Ingrate!  Not so much as even a thank you!"  Jet recoiled as the old woman turned her rage onto him.  "My name is Halle, you little punk.  Now, who are you?"

            "Jet…"  Jet was trying to maintain his cold, nonchalant attitude, but it looked rather comical with his back pressed against the wall, although he had stopped shaking.  "Jet Enduro."

            "Well, young one, you've got a lot to learn about manners!"   As she continued on her tirade, a groggy Gallows stumbled back into the building and dropped a load of wood on the ground, letting it clatter and thump haphazardly.  Halle immediately heard this and marched over to the railing, the same one Jet had fallen over before, and returned her attention to Carradine.  "Idiot!  Don't make such a mess!  Haven't I taught you anything about respect?!"

            Jet would have taken the time to watch and be amused at the big guy's misfortune, but he was too busy slipping back into unconsciousness…

_I can't see anything…  _

_Wait, I think I see something up ahead…_

_It's__ small, though.   Let me see…_

_Ah__… a flower… rose…_

_Damn…__ I pricked myself on one of its thorns…_

_Great, I'm bleeding now. _

_I shouldn't be bleeding this much from a prick, though.  _

_What the hell__ is going on?  The rose… it's wilting in my hand…_

_Ugh…__ I think I'm losing too much blood..._

_"Wake up…"_

_The rose?__  Is the rose speaking to me?_

_It has a beautiful voice…_

_"Wake up…"_

Gallows poked him again and yelled "Hey, punk, wake up!  Come on!"  When he got no response from the boy, he tried pushing him with his boot.  "Damn it, kid, wake your ass up!"  Nothing.  He grabbed the young man by the collar and shook him, which, in response, barely evicted a groan.  "Aw, Granny's gonna be fuming if I don't wake him up soon…"

            Taking a look around, Gallows ran over to one of the shelves in the room.  Grabbing a large, metal saucepot, he crept back over to Jet's bedside.  As carefully as he could, he sat Jet up in the bed.  Taking the pot in one hand, he slipped it over the boy's head, and in the other hand, he drew his sawed-off Coyote M17F shotgun.  He raised his right arm, preparing to swing at the saucepot, when suddenly his stomach became the epicenter of a huge amount of pain.  Pulling his fist back, Jet smirked underneath his culinary helmet.  

            "Next time you try that you're gonna get shot."  The attempt at cartoon fallacy had failed, although Jet sounded kinda funny with his head still in the pot.  

Gallows glared daggers at him from his perch on the floor, still hunched over his stomach.  What pissed him off the most, however, is how he never saw the strike coming.  "Urgh…well…now that you're awake…we have to get going.  Granny wants to talk to you…ugh…"

At the mention of Halle, fear filled Jet's lavender eyes…

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The first thing Jet noticed upon entering the northern cavern was the look on face of it's occupant.  If he had thought she looked angry before, then now she was downright enraged!  

            "What took you so long, Gallows?"

Gallows nervously rubbed the back of his head and said "Um… well, you see… I tried to wake him up like five times or so, and on the last time…well…I finally got him up, isn't that what's important?"  

His rambling only made Halle angrier.  "Don't be so insolent!  We've got important matters to discuss!"   She waved her cane, signaling for the two approach the back wall of the cavern.

"Obviously you two are well aware of the train robbery the other day.  However, do either of you know what was so valuable on that train?"  She stopped, receiving blank stares from Jet and Gallows.  "I didn't think so.  That train was carrying a very important Baskar artifact called the Ark Scepter."

"Wait a minute, Granny!  You mean the ancient relic that allowed communication with the Spirit of Filgaia?"  Gallows was noticeably shocked.

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean.  It has an estimated value of thirty-two million Gella on the black market, which would explain the utter recklessness of the attack."

"Scepter, huh?  That's probably what I got knocked out with."

Just then, a oddly-dressed boy stumbled into the cave, out of breath.  "Grandmother!  We've found the train-robbers!"  

Gallows' expression flew through numerous contortions, starting with surprise, shifting to recognition, then to an excited happiness, and then back to surprised, all within the space of a few seconds.   "Little bro'!  How's it go-"  He stopped himself abruptly, and just as suddenly continued "You found them?"

"Ah, it's good to see you up and about, brother," he stated, with a happy look of his own.  He turned to Jet and added, "And you too, mister."

Halle angrily launched in with "Get to the point, Shane.  There'll be plenty of time for chatter later!  Where are the train-robbers?"

Returning his features to seriousness, the young boy responded, "Near the sand river west of here.   No more than an hour away on horseback."

No longer willing to sit about, Jet hastily darted towards the entrance to the cavern.  Nobody was willing to stop him, either.  Gallows watched him run off, and then looked back to the old woman, then to the entrance, then back to Halle, and finally, he too ran out of the cave.

"Don't mess this up, grandson."

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Having borrowed a pair of horses from the colony, one black and one mahogany, it was a rather quick journey.  There wasn't any conversation, as the young Hawk seemed determined to fill the robbers full of lead as swiftly as possible, and the Baskar had no intentions of interfering with his train of though.  

The two men crossed the plains with great speed, sending any creatures in their path leaping out of the way.  A few Balloons barely avoided being trampled, themselves.  As the pair approached the end of the plain, reaching the two cliff-faces that formed an opening, they spotted a thin trail of smoke rising into the sky.

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"Dario… pass the beans…"

"Huh?  Oh, sure thing, Romero."

The man with the oddly colored blue hair watched his cronies, slightly annoyed.  "Beans?  Couldn't you idiots make something a bit less stereotypical?  Cooks some damn corn or something."  Sitting on his rock, he took a swig of his flask.

Rolling his eyes, Romero grumbled, "Buy us something different, and maybe we'd cook it, Janus."

Struggling to keep a vein in his forehead from exploding, Janus leapt to his feet, and shouted triumphantly "Don't worry about that anymore, boys.  After today, the Cascade Gang'll never have to cook there own meals again!  We're gonna be rich!"  With that, he thrust his bayonet into the air, striking a very impressive pose.  Dario started clapping and cheering, while Romero just went back to eating his beans.

However, the small man never expected the bowl to be shot out of his hands.  Charging over the hill was the two men who had almost botched their escape, both with guns blazing.

While Dario and Romero scrambled to get their weapons, Janus jumped over their heads and began his own charge, bayonet ready.  Picking his target, he leveled the blade, dodging gunfire the whole time, and thrust forward with all of his strength.  The ebony mare tumbled, its lifeblood spilling, sending Jet careening through the air.  Removing his weapon from the dying horse, Janus turned to face his opponent, who had landed on his feet.

"You again, boy?  Should you be fighting with that injury?" he mocked, pointing at the boy's arm.  This only made Jet angrier, and he resumed firing.  Janus darted to the left, rolled the right, and executed more evasive maneuvers until he was within striking range of the Hawk.  Using an overhead swing, he attacked.  However, the blade was blocked by the young boy's own ARM, creating a power struggle as one man tried to overpower the other.

Dario was easily dispatched with a right hook, leaving only Romero for Gallows to face. The wiry man drew his shuriken and licked his lips.  "Looking for another takedown, Hawk?"

Gallows chuckled, and answered "You're just a sneaky little son of a gun.  We're in broad daylight here, there's nowhere to sneak around this time!"  Aiming the Coyote at Romero's chest, he pulled the trigger.

After losing the pushing match, Janus tumbled to the ground, and was introduced to the butt of the Airget-lamh.  Smiling at his handiwork, Jet strode over to the campsite and recovered the Ark Scepter.  It was a simple design, merely a gold rod with a claw-like grip at the end.  However, it looked as if something should have been in the staff's grip.  Walking over to the recovering Dario, he clubbed the back of the grunt's head.  "Payback's a bitch, ain't it?"

With a shuriken firmly embedded in his shoulder, Gallows stood triumphant.  Beneath him, with numerous gunshot wounds in the leg, lay Romero.  However, due to blood loss, Gallows vision blurred a bit.  "Feelin' woozy…."  With that, the big man toppled.  Reluctantly, Jet carried the man to his horse, threw him onto the saddle, and began the long walk back to the colony.

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A/N  Oh, the action!  What can I say right now…. hm… maybe I made the Cascade gang to easy to topple.  Hm… oh well!  Yet another chapter to come, hopefully in less than a month, this time…

**CRRS:**

**Teefa85:  **I can't wait either.  That would mean that I've actually been writing instead of procrastinating!  I tried to make Romero seem less…um…dumb this time.  Dario, however, is hopeless.

**Hypes:   **Holy ego-boosters, Batman!  I've been likened to Cowboy Bebop!  One of the GREATEST animes ever!   Wah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!  (Continues ranting…)  Thanks!  (I'm so full of myself.  Please forgive me!!!)

**Skylark Starflower:  **Heh heh, now that we've got that 'typhoon' cleared up (you know what I'm talking about)….   thanks for the review!

**aya-yahiko****:  **Thanks for the review, guys!  Although, you might be a bit off on the "Jet is actually the justice-abiding one and Virginia is the self-acclaimed bandit"  Heh heh!  All will be revealed soon enough!  Mwa ha ha ha!!   (I'm such an idiot…)


	5. To Boot Hill

**A/N:**  It's me again.  Um….  hi?

**Trina:**  No one cares, meteor…

**A/N:**  Of course they do.  Look, this story's over twenty pages long!!  
  
**Trina:**  The manual for the game is over forty pages long… and is much more interesting.

**A/N:**  Oh shut up!  The manual was badly translated and would only fill half of those pages if it was purely text…

**Trina:**  I can't say much for the English skills in this thing either…

**A/N:**  Hey!

**Trina:**  Plus, half of your story is all author notes and that weird ass CRRS thing…

**A/N:**  Well, at least I know that it's a good idea to know a guy for more than a month before you start having his children…

**Trina:**  *Shoots him*

Disclaimer:  There's a myriad of ways I could say I don't own Wild Arms 3, so just imagine one and pretend I said it.

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Chapter 5

To Boot Hill

            Although he had been uninjured during the fight with Cascade, Jet still had sustained a decent leg injury caused by the fall of his horse.  Because of this, his trip to Boot Hill was delayed until April 20th.  However, his comrade-in-arms wasn't as lucky.

            Through some stroke of luck, Gallows had avoided the risks of blood loss and infection, and survived the damage dealt by the massive shuriken.  It had taken the tribe doctor nearly two and a half days to completely patch up and clean the wound, as on numerous occasions it would start to bleed through the wrappings.  And through the entire ordeal, Caradine had never woken nor stirred.  His brother Shane had worried endlessly over this, and Halle, no matter how stern she may have appeared, was hurting inwardly as well.  Anyone could have seen this, except for Jet, who never really came to visit, although he did feel bad for the guy, somewhat. 

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            "You know, I don't think I'd ever seen you visit my brother." 

 As to why this damn kid decided to bother while I was going to sleep, I'll never understand.  So I turned to him and replied, "So what?"

"So what?"  He gave me an incredulous glare for some reason, apparently unable to see the logic.  "Aren't you his friend?"  
  
            Clearly, this kid hasn't been paying attention.  As calmly as I could, I answered his inquiry.  "Friend?  Don't make me laugh."  Cause my side hurts.  "I've been trying to get away from that buffoon since the day I met him.  I just have the bad luck to keep running into him.  So why, then, would I go see him of my own accord?"  I waited for this fact to sink into Shane's head.

What happened next, however, really surprised me.  "You really are a bastard…"  And with that, he turned and left.  

I was pissed.  How dare he call me that!  Did he forget that I'm the one who dragged his brother's ass all the way back here?  And why can't he realize that I have no reason to 'go visit' the dumbass?  It's not my fault that he got injured!  I'm not his teammate!  Stupid brat!!

Actually, I'm not even sure who I said that last part to.  I do know, however, that later that night, after my thoughts completely lost any semblance of order, I had another one of those weird dreams.

_I hear it…  The rose's voice… _

_It's so beautiful…_

_But that damn wind is drowning it out…_

_The wind is growing, louder and louder…_

_But I don't feel it.  The air is so stagnant and still…_

_The wind is deafening…_

_It's driving me insane!  I run around frantically, trying to escape its sound._

_Until I see a gloved hand reaching out of the darkess…_

_I reach for it..._

…and grabbed Gallows arm before he could put that pot over my head again.  I laughed at him and said, "Still too slow," but then it hit me.  Gallows was up and moving about? "I thought you were supposed to be dead or something."  I said, disappointed.

"Ha!  It takes more than a mere blade to take the life of the mighty Gallows of the Blue Thunder!"  He struck a pose again, even more ridiculous than usual.  I refrained from hitting him, however, because Halle had walked into the hut and sat down near the fire.

"Blue Thunder," croaked the old hag, "is that what you call yourself nowadays?  Whatever happened to the Yellow Sun?"  When he didn't answer, she muttered, "Bah, fool…"

My curiosity got the better of me, so I asked Gallows, "So what the hell happened to you, besides the wound that nearly killed your hapless ass?"

He glared at me.  "For your information, punk, that scrawny guy got in a lucky shot with that Shuriken.  Other than that, they never touched me!  Ha!"

"And yet that one wound knocked you out for days?"

Halle butted into our conversation.  "That's because the shuriken was not a normal weapon."

"Huh?  What do you mean, Granny?"

"What I mean is this:  There was something on that weapon that should have been deadly to the touch.  And this was no mere poison, either.  It was almost as if the weapon was cursed."

Gallows blinked stupidly.  "What?"

I begrudgingly sat up.  "It means those guys had some connections to someone important, or maybe someone powerful.  Or, maybe the scrawny guy just knows voodoo or something."

"So, let me get this straight.    These guys tried to kill me with evil magic stuff, I've brushed off the effects, and now I stand triumphantly before your eyes?!  Ha!  I really am a mighty warrior!"

Halle smashed him over the head with her cane.  "Idiot!  You shouldn't even be out of bed right now!  No go lie down before I show you some real 'evil magic stuff'!"  She spit out the last three words as if they were spoiled vinegar.

Gallows leapt into bed with speed and precision.  Hell, I was almost ready to go cut and stack wood in appeasement.  This woman is scary as hell…

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            The boy's thoughts were interrupted by the whistle of the train.  A voice then came over the intercom.  "Attention passengers, please excuse the delay.  The regular four o'clock train from Westwood to Southfarm has been derailed, so we will be stopping to pick up the passengers waiting at Westwood.  Hopefully, this will add no more than an hour to the trip.  We appreciate your cooperation, and thank you for riding Filgaia Railways!"

            On that cue, the train slipped into an underground tunnel.   The intermittent yellow lights flashed by, creating a flickering light as the train traversed underneath the mountain range.  Caught by the hypnotic effect of the lighting, Jet drifted off to sleep.

            During the last month, Jet had been accustomed to being surprised.  So, ironically, it came as no surprise to him that he was surprised upon waking.  After taking a moment to realize what that meant, he looked fro whoever had woken him up.  

            "Hmph…Don't you ever knock, Clive?"

            The taller man laughed at his friend's disposition.  "It is good to see you again, as well."  He sat down across from the young Hawk, and adjusted his glasses.  "So, I've heard that you pulled a pretty big job recently."

            "Well, the job wasn't so big, but the payoff was nice."  _Too bad the old hag kept half of it for "Room, board, and medical treatment…"_  

            "Twenty-thousand Gella is much more than 'nice', Jet."  He removed his glasses and wiped them with a cloth from his coat pocket.  "I certainly could use that kind of money."

            "Why, you finally want to splurge on your dream craft?  What was it, the _Edwin Merci d'Iago_?"  Jet had known for years that Clive was awfully fond of that type of Sandcraft.  Back when they used to work together, the older man would be easily distracted whenever they went to the port city of Jolly Roger.  Of course, this was before he met Catherine.

            "No, that's not it.  You see, I'm going to be a father!"  He put his glasses back on, and pushed them up on his nose.  

Jet could tell he was excited.  And in an uncharacteristic move, he responded with equal enthusiasm.  Well, sort of. "Bout time!  God, aren't you like forty by now?"  He laughed at that, knowing full well that Clive was only thirty.

Clive laughed, too.  "Well, what can I say?"

Something dawned on Jet at that moment.  "Wait, if Catherine's pregnant, then what the hell are you doing out here?  You didn't come onboard just to tell me that."

Clive looked nervous.  Adjusting his glasses again, he took a deep, calming breath before responding, "I have some business to attend to, west of Boot Hill."  

"What business?"  Jet felt that something still wasn't right.  But when Clive didn't answer, he knew better than to press into it.  Instead, he asked some general questions about Clive's plans for the baby.

"….well, if it's a girl, we're going to name her Kaitlyn…."

==============================================================

A/N:  Hm…. Not as long as it could be….but oh well.  Stay tuned:  Next time, it's mystery and excitement on the southernmost continent on Filgaia!

**CRRS:**

**Teefa85:  **Yeah, they are funny.  I think I may be overplaying the "Scary Halle" thing, but… so what?  It's funny!  Wah ha ha ha ha!!!!

**Black Waltz 0:  **I haven't posted in a while…. That was back when he was calling me master…  Sorry it took so damn long!!!

**Hypes:**  Yep, it's like one of those 'buddy cop' sorta things.  Except I haven't worked out which one is Jackie Chan and which one is Chris Tucker…

**Skylark Starflower:  **For the life of me, I can't think of whatever you were talking about!  Did something happen to Ruskin?  (Trina:  If I find out that you did something to Ruskin…….)

**JayJay****-Sawada:  **I hope that scene doesn't conjure up memories of the bean symphony in Blazin' Saddles…..

**aya-yahiko****:  **No need to apologize.  (A/N:  Gomen Muyo?  Trina:  Shut up and respond to her review!)  I'm the one who should apologize.  I haven't updated in over a month….  I know Yahiko must have a hard head by now… but still….should you really be hitting him so hard?  (A/N:  Run away!!  Trina: *Shoots meteor9*)


	6. The Quiet One

Chapter 6

The Quiet One

**A/N:**  Ah yes, it's me again.  I'm back for more AU chaos.  

So, I think that I have to keep doing 1st and 3rd person alternatively, because I can't write for long in either. While in the last chapter, 1st person meant a flashback, from here on, it just means a change in perspective.  So…..yeah.   

And remember, it's AU, where it doesn't matter if you screw something up, cause "it's not the real game"!  Ha!  
  
**Trina:**  Shoots him

**A/N:**  That was earlier than usual….Dies

Disclaimer:  I do not own WA3,  but you know that already.  What's new is that I don't own the song "Are You Gonna Be My Girl" by the band Jet.  So remember that.

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At sundown, a cavalcade of sound filled the skies above Southfarm Station.  Iron parts grated against one another as the momentum of the wheels was forcibly stilled, the hiss of steam as the hydraulic brakes engaged.  Finally, after minutes of grinding metal, a piercing whistle echoed across the cliff faces to the north and south.

            A lone station attendant approached the creaking bulk of iron, the first sign of movement he'd seen in days.  The train was a cold, black, metal contrast to the grasslands surrounding the station.  As he walked to the first car, the attendant sang an odd tune to himself.

_I said one-two-three_

_Take my hand and come with me_

_'Cause you look so fine that I really wanna make you mine._

Out of habit, he broke into an air guitar riff.

_I said you look so fine that I really wanna make you mine._

He played some more.

_Ah, four-five-six,_

_Come on and get your kicks_

_'Cause you don't need the money when you look like that, do ya honey?_

He started to headbang on this riff.

_Big, black boots_

_Long, brown hair_

_Look so sweet with that_

_Jet black stare._

_Oh, I can see_

_You home with me_

_But you were with another man!_

_I know that we ain't got_

_Much to say,_

_But I won't let you get away!_

After another guitar solo, he belted out-

_I said "are you gonna be my girl?"_

-which evicted a strange look from the silver-haired passenger departing from the train.  Clamping his hand against the back of his head, the attendant laughed, embarrassed, and mumbled "Guess I got a little carried away…"

            Rolling his eyes, the young man stepped off of the platform, followed by a tall, green-haired man with a bit of stubble on his chin.  Waving to his friend, Clive set off eastward, with the sun at his back and his shadow leading him on.  Jet watched him until he was no more than a speck on the horizon before he departed west towards civilization.

            It's gonna be a day's walk from here, so maybe if I hurry, I can make it halfway there before I need to make camp for the night.  

            I've heard there are supposed to be wolves in this area…but I don't hear anything around here…Must just be a stupid rumor.

            The sun dipped below the horizon, and the effects were immediate.  A chill breeze roamed across the plains, blowing from shoreline to shoreline.  The world fell into shades of blue and gray, and the flapping of leathery wings alerted that the bats were in flight.  Curious over a rumor he once heard, he tossed a bullet into the air, and was surprised that one of the rodents dived in and snatched it out of the sky before the shell even finished rising.  Without the light of the sun filling the atmosphere, Filgaia's twin moons were allowed to shine against the backdrop of the sea of stars.

            Seeing the stars sparkle like that, I can't help but think about Maya and her gems.  It sorta reminds me of how her eyes shine when she's plotting something, and the greedy smile that goes with it.  And it makes me wonder…What do I see in her?  Whenever I'm around her, she shows no affection, no love or anything like that.  She always has that sparkle….plotting to use me to her own ends.  Next time I see her, if she doesn't show any semblance of 'giving a damn,' then I'm breaking it off.

            Damn it, now I got that damn song stuck in my head…

_Long, brown hair…_

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            Early the next morning, Jet continued his trek to the town of Boot Hill.  He encountered few threats along the way, as most roaming Gobs recognized his silver hair that identified him as the top Hawk that he was.  Any creature dumb enough to get in his way was quickly dispatched.  

            At roughly noon, he passed underneath an old, wooden archway, which prominently displayed in playbill letters the obvious fact that this was Boot Hill.  _It's the only town on this continent,_ Jet thought.  _That sign really is useless._  Apparently, many of the townsfolk felt the same way, cause the sign looked about ready to collapse at any moment.

            After all the crap that happened to me these past few weeks, I wonder if Rose is even here anymore.  Oh well, I'd better start asking questions.  "Hey, kid."

            The young guy with black hair turned to me, sporting closed eyes and an optimistic grin.  "The name's not 'kid', it's Neil.  Nice to meet ya, stranger."

            "My name isn't 'stranger.'  Hear any good rumors, lately?"

            Unfortunately, he set off on a rant about sleeping till noon and how cool it would be to travel the world.  I don't think he even noticed that I left halfway through…

None of the other townsfolk were of much help, either.  Which is a shame, 'cause it was approaching sunset, and I still had no leads to go off of.  A little begrudged, I approached the only house I hadn't visited, a large, two-story estate on a hill at the back of the town.  I walked up to the front porch, but before I could knock, I was knocked out of the way by that kid Neil, who frantically pounded on the door.

"Tesla!  Shalte! Get out here, there's trouble down at the old mansion!"

A middle aged couple burst through the door with the same haste that the boy had shown.  Neil repeated his message for them.

I listened to the anxious conversation until I had the basics of the situation.  South of here is an old mansion, and a renegade troop of Gobs have taken up residence there.  As to why these people would be this concerned over that is a bit suspicious.  

As the older man started for his coat, I interjected.  "I'll handle it for five-thousand Gella."

He gave me a thorough scrutinizing, then turned to the woman next to him.  After some silent deliberation, he turned back to me and accepted my offer.  

With the deal and place, I left Boot Hill and headed south.

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            As far as he could tell, Jet thought that the mansion was in better shape than the villagers had made it out to be.  Scanning the building, he heard the most noise coming from the first floor, so, with the assistance of a nearby tree, he slipped in through a broken second-story window.  Inside, he found himself in a storeroom.  A multitude of crates and barrels filled the room, each covered in a coat of fine dust and cobwebs.  He silently made his way to the door, and put his head against it.  Hearing nothing nearby, he quietly opened the door, checked for hostiles, and crept to the railing nearby, which opened to the main hall below.

            There were twenty to thirty Gobs congregating on the main floor, grunting and howling indecipherable messages.  The collective odor of the demi-humans was almost enough to make Jet gag.  

           Though the yells were unintelligible, the focus of their attention was clear.  In the midst of them stood a young woman.  She had long, honey-colored hair that seemed to shimmer as she moved; a purple dress; a denim strip wrapped around her waist on top of the dress;  a white shawl and gold and blue bordering, which was obscured by a large, red bow; two oversized pistols; and determined, azure eyes.

            One of the Gobs must have gotten to close, because the girl drove her knee hard into his face, causing blood to flow from his nose and mouth as teeth clattered to the floor.  Spinning, she opened fire with her ARMs, taking down the four closest Gobs in her vicinity.  As she continued firing, more Gobs began to pour out of every doorway, and she was soon stuck in an hopeless battle.

            He had seen enough.  Blasting into a group of demi-humans with the Airget-lamh, he shouted a war cry and leapt over the railing.  Drawing the Gobs attention, they quickly forgot about the woman and charged towards Jet, who was more than willing to send their lifeblood spilling to the ground.  The girl took this chance to back towards the main door, and continued firing into the crowd of Gobs.  

            The writhing mob continued to press forward, driving the Hawk against the wall.  He fired endlessly into the mob, but to no discernable effect.  Suddenly, a rope swung overhead.  He leapt to grab it, and swung with it as it made it's way back across the room.  And he noticed that the girl must have thrown it to him in the first place.  

            Dropping down next to her, Jet spun and fired into the Gobs again before kicking down the front door, grabbing the girl by her wrist, and dashing off into the night.  But not before tossing a red gem into the fray.

            Trying to get away from the smell of burnt flesh, Jet and the young woman quickened their pace towards Boot Hill.

            "So, who are you, anyway?"  Jet looked at her, waiting for her answer.

            Instead, she kept her gaze straight ahead, and never even opened her mouth.

            Growing impatient, he asked another question.  "Well, what were you doing in there?"

            Again, she remained silent.

            "Why the hell aren't you talking?!"  

            She stopped suddenly, causing Jet to stumble as he tried to do the same.  For the first time, she looked into his face.  She looked angry, and….hurt.  But she still never spoke.

            Jet was taken aback, and his mind was sent racing.  Finally, after an uncomfortable moment, he spoke again.  "You….can't talk….can you?"

            She shook her head, and after a pause, continued walking to Boot Hill.

            Jet stood where he was, and turned to watch her pass him by.  There was something about that girl….__

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**A/N:**  That's odd….a cliffhanger?  Well, not so much….   As always, I have more to say.  I try to respond to reviews as best as I can, with as much info as possible, but sometimes my responses are, like my reviews, a bit nonsensical, so I apologize…But I'll try to review/respond as best as I can and be humorous at the same time!    

**Trina:**  Jeez, do you have _any_ self worth, metty?

**A/N:  **I work at a grocery store, go to local college, live at home, and have no love life.  Do I look like I have self worth?

**Trina:  **Well, you have that girl that beats the crap outta you…

**A/N:  **But she never is herself!  It's that damn-  whoops!  Gotta watch what I reveal!

**Trina:** ….where's R-C?

**CRRS:**

**Teefa85:**  I've always appreciated your lightning speed reviews!  To answer your question, this all takes place roughly around the same time that WA3 would, except Jet really is...um…like 18 or 21….and Kaitlyn isn't born yet.  And I've dropped the demon aspects of the world.  (Sorry, demon fans…)  Gallows won't be dealing too much with the priestly lineage aspects, and Clive….I can't say.  Virginia…I also can't say….  Those two have all the secrets….well….Jet has one….   Stay tuned…..

**Black Waltz 0:  **(Wow, saying "BW" really is less of a mouthful…)  Anywho, you'll have to wait just a little bit longer before Jet reacts to our favorite "female main character drifer in a video game"…or is it the _only_ "female main character drifter in a video game"….   And maybe I should kill Gallows next time?   ^_^

**aya-yahiko****:**  Well, Miyoujin Yahiko's right, Jet was being a bastard.  But that's an important part of his character, so it's gonna be around for a while…..  And I'm glad someone caught that Kuno reference…although I always forget if he said lightning or thunder….And I still haven't met these J/M fans………

**Skylark Starflower:  **  Oh, so that's what you meant…. (Trina:  Come home, R-C…I feel lonely…^_^)  And I remembered what it was I was referencing:  The Lamborghini Mercieulago.  Damn, I gotta get me some money…..Vroom!

**JayJay****-Sawada:**  I wonder what he should call himself next…..   Maybe I should throw in some Blazin' Saddles references…it's such an awesome movie!

**Hypes:**  Big bad Maxwell….heh heh, In addition to the cut of your jib, I likes the sounds of that title.  Big bad Maxwell.  That may come back to haunt you near the end of the fic…heh heh…..Anywho, since Gallows is Chris Tucker (though nowhere near as quick-witted), that means Jet is the master of martial arts, trained under Bruce Lee, and very kid friendly?  Sweet!!    (Plus, I finally got around to watching the Cowboy Bebop movie, Knocking on Heaven's Door……….HOLY CRAP THAT WAS AWESOME!!!!!)

**Hana**** no Kaze:  **Affirmative!  I shall keep up the good work!  Just….at my usual slow pace…….sorry…..I've got too much crap to deal with at UCONN and Price Chopper….gomen!

**Author Recommendations For Fun:    **Play yourself some FF9 soon.  (Start over if you're at the end.)  This game has some of the best character interaction ever!  "Ooh, soft…"  And watch Cowboy Bebop.   Cause Spike is the man.  (Kenshin still owns, however!)  Oh, wait, I think Vivi was the man at some point…..and then it was Zidane for being such an all-around cool guy……erm…..BATTLE ROYALE!!!  Who will survive?

And one, last, final note, I swear!  

I just want to say that if I ever called Kikyo a 'soul stealing bitch', I rescind my insult.  Cause I feel so bad for her now, after seeing more episodes of Inuyasha.  So, I apologize to all you Kikyo fans….


	7. Her Name is Virginia

Chapter 7

Her Name is Virginia

**A/N:**  Be shocked and amazed!  Two updates on one story in one day!  It's like a gift from the heavens!

**Trina:** *shoots him*

**A/N:**  Now that was uncalled for….*dies*

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            It was a long walk back to Boot Hill, and the still night made the silence seem heavier.  On many occasions, Jet tried to speak to the girl, but the memory of the pain in her eyes kept him quiet.  Instead, as they trudged forward, he looked her over, trying to learn anything about her.  She looked to be about his age, possibly eighteen or nineteen, but the way she carried herself was years ahead of her appearance.  From the encounter at the mansion, he could tell that she was an excellent shot, a hell of a fighter, and also a quick thinker.  Such qualities usually belonged to an expert Hawk, however, he'd never heard of a girl like this being in his ranks.  _With skills like that, she'd surely be well known among the Hawks,_ he thought.   _And if not for her abilities, then at least for her looks._

When he realized what he was thinking, he shook the idea out of his head.  He was still with Maya.  He shouldn't be thinking like that about other women, right?  But…isn't he going to sever his ties with her?  _No,_ he thought again.  _I still have to give her that one chance._  To mock his confused state, the clouds had begun to dissipate, revealing the stars and their sparkle.  Unable to face them, he cast his gaze downwards, and followed the sound of the girl's footsteps.

            A few minutes later, he ceased to hear them.  Looking up to see why, he found himself face-to-face with the girl.  Not really expecting an answer, he nonetheless asked, "What?"

            She lifted her hand and pointed to his chest.  Looking down again, he saw a light gash across his chest, one that he must have sustained during the fight a while back.  He found it strange that he had not noticed the wound.  Still, he brushed her hand away, and kept on walking.  

            She followed him, but at the same time she rummaged through the pouch strung to her belt, and produced a small cluster of red berries and a strip of gauze.  She crushed the red berries into the gauze strip, until the fibers had absorbed all of the juices, and then discarded the skins of the berries.  She quickly darted ahead of him, and then turned and pressed the gauze against his wound, catching him off guard.

            He reacted to the initial stinging sensation by trying to brush her arm away again, but she continued to press it against him.  Before he could get to the Airget-lamh, however, an immense cool set into the wound, soothing the pain.  As he relaxed, the girl tried another bold move.  Removing the gauze, she pulled of his coat and went to grab his black undershirt.

            "H-H-Hey!  What do you think you're doing?"

            Ignoring him, she took his scarf from his neck, and she lifted his shirt up to his shoulders.   Before he could react to this next uncomfortable circumstance, she pressed the gauze against the wound, and wrapped his scarf around his chest, pinning the soothing strip in place against the wound.  Secretly, she took a quick gander at his well defined muscular build before pulling his shirt back down.

            Dumbfounded, he just stood there as she smiled at him, turned, and then continued walking.  After a moment, he stammered, "Thanks," and proceeded to follow her once again.

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            Those people must have been standing there all night, for as soon as I reached the archway, Tesla appeared and tossed me a bag of Gella as Neil and Shalte ushered the girl to the large house at the back of town.  As they were pushing her there, she turned, shrugged her shoulders, and then waved to me.  I haphazardly waved back, and set about counting my money.  Satisfied that it was all there, I headed for the bar.

            As far as seedy bars go, this….wasn't one of them.  Everything was clean, from the seats, to the walls, to the glasses and windows, everything.  The few people inside were well dressed, and even sipped their alcohol moderately.  That ruled out drinking myself into a stupor, but I'm not really a fan of that anyway.  Still, I took a seat and ordered special mix, whose name I didn't catch.  

            I stared into my glass for what felt like hours, recapping the past few days in my head.  Here I was, on an empty continent, in an empty bar, having wasted the last few weeks chasing a clue that apparently didn't even exist.  None of these damn people knows anything about Rose!  Next time I see Clive, I'm gonna get the name of that 'informant' and personally slit his throat.   

            Argh, I'm getting pissed over nothing, really.  I've made about fifteen-thousand Gella since I left Gunner's Heaven (though I can't justify Halle's ten-thousand Gella bill), so it hasn't been a total waste.  Hell, maybe I can buy a sandcraft, and never ride those damn trains again.  Oh well, down the hatch.

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            He swallowed the drink in one motion, and slammed the glass down on the table, startling everyone in the bar.  They quickly lost interest, however, and went back to their activities.  Except for one woman.

            "Hey, Shorty!  What the hell are you still doing here?"

            Jet, who had ordered another drink already and was drinking it, choked on a mouthful of vodka.  "Maya?!  What the hell do you mean, 'What am I still doing here?'"

            "Well, you left a month ago.  I figured you shoulda cleaned this place out by now."

            "For your information, I just got here yesterday.  I ran into a few roadblocks…"

            She took a seat next to him and ordered a drink.  "Ah, so you were on _that_ train, huh?"

            "Yeah, _that_ train.  I caught the bastards who blew it up, too."

            "The Cascade Gang?  I thought you turned down catching them before because they were too inept, getting themselves arrested and all?"

            "Well, I never had the chance to turn it down.  Wait….that was the Cascade Gang?  They were actually a challenge, how did they get caught before?  And what were they doing out of custody?"

            "Bah, you worry too much for a Hawk!  It's all about the money, no questions asked!  Don't tell me you're going soft now, too!"

            As she was talking, Jet was remembering his thoughts from the past few days.  _She really doesn't care…and she's such a drain on my resources…_  Taking a deep swig, he went in for the kill.  "Maya, we're through."

            She seemed to take it well at first, but that was only because she wasn't really listening.  When she finally realized what he said, she broke the glass in her hand and screamed, "WHAT!!!??"

           Jet, who looked nothing like a man who was likely about to be slaughtered, repeated, "We're through.  Done.  Over.  You mean nothing to me, and I mean nothing to you.  And the upkeep was getting ridiculous."

            Maya, struggling to regain her composure, took Jet's drink and downed the rest.  Taking a deep breath, she prepared to speak.  And then she broke _that_ glass and screamed, "Nobody breaks up with me!!  And you're not gonna be the first!  We are _so_ over!!"  She snorted, crossed her arms, and looked away, looking very much like a drama queen.  

            Slamming Gella down on the counter, Jet got out of the bar as fast as possible.  _Well, at least that's taken care of…._

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I took a walk to the house at the back, realizing that I had never actually asked them about Rose yet.  As I approached, I saw the girl from the night before looking at me from the second floor balcony.  She turned and went inside as I got close.  Before I could knock on the door, she opened it and smiled, welcoming me inside.  Sitting at the table in the main room was the middle aged couple from before, Shalte and Tesla.  The girl motioned for me to sit, and as I did, so did the girl.  The four of us looked at each other nervously, waiting for someone to start.  

Unable to wait any longer, I started interrogating them.  "Who are you people. And what do you have to do with that mansion?"

The older man took an uncomfortably deep breath before answering.  "I'm Tesla, this is my wife Shalte, and this," he pointed to the girl, "is our niece, Virginia."

So her name's Virginia…   "But what about my other question?"

"Virginia had gone down there to get some books that had been left there by the original owner.  When we heard that Gobs had attacked the building, it was only natural that we'd be nervous."

Virginia smiled and nodded her head, and I got the feeling that though they weren't lying, something was still odd…

At that moment, a man outside started screaming, "The Gobs are coming this way!!  Everybody, the Gobs are coming!!"

===============================================================

**A/N:**  Another conflict already?  Wow!  Things are heating up now, and Virginia is in the fray!  Maybe I'll even get another chapter up soon!  Wow, what a change of work habits!!

**CRRS:**

**Skylark Starflower:**  Soon enough, for ya?  (Trina:  Wait…where do we live again?  My place or yours?)

**Teefa85:**  Heh heh….you'll just have to wait and see.  Plus, there's a convenient Gob invasion that's supposed to distract you this time!!  Look, a diversion!!


	8. Gob's Revenge

**Chapter 8**

**Gob's Revenge                    **

I don't own WA3.   And isn't this chapter's title quote-tastic?

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He may have looked like a short, stout man, were it not for the oversized, beastly head that labeled him as a demi-human.  He gazed at the world as it rolled past and he decided it wasn't rolling by fast enough.  Grabbing a metal can, he chucked it at the minion pulling his cart.  "Pick up the pace, gob!"

            The cup ricocheted off of the gob, who immediately stopped and turned to glare at the gob responsible.  In response he merely hefted his axe in a menacing manner.  Grumbling, the gob resumed pulling the cart.

            Hobgob was not having a good day.  He had lost a third of his men in the battle against the humans in the mansion.  His perfect new base of operations had been burnt to the ground.  And on top of all that, he lost his favorite hat in the blaze.  He hated this week.  In fact, he could see no way as to how it could be worse.  He needed to let his aggression out, and he decided that the human settlement to the north should be on the receiving end.

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            _"Humans are weak, gob.  Yet the have all good stuff!  We gobs are strong, and here we shuffle around this forsaken dust-ball, scrounging for an existence!  I believe, gob, that as the stronger people, gob, we should take what we desire, gob!  Today we march on the humans, gob!"_

_            Yells and grunts of agreement echoed throughout the plains, and the gobs quickly gathered all of their supplies.  As the horde prepared, Hobgob stepped off the high boulder.  Scanning the crowd, he took deep breaths to calm himself.  As he did, he found who he was looking for._

_            "Gretyl, gob!" he called to a female gob.  _

_            She turned at the sound of his voice, then ran and leaped into his short, stubby arms.  "Hob, gob!  You're going to war?"_

_            "Yes, me love.  It is something that we, as gobs, must do."_

_            "But what if something happens to you, gob?"_

_            He took her gnarled, course face in his hairy, rough hands, and looked into her yellow eyes.  "You truly are the most beautiful gob, gob," he whispered._

_            From his eyes, she could tell that there was nothing she could grunt or do to change his mind.  As he marched off with his horde, she started to sob, gob._

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            Hobgob remembered well the tears of his love.  But, he had to fight for his honor, as well as hers.  The humans would not get away with their interference any longer.  He smiled at the thought.  He enjoyed smashing those creatures.  He enjoyed it because he felt, no, he _knew_ that they deserved it.  Any un-smashed human was an injustice to the world.

            While Hobgob sat lost in thought, an eager young gob approached the commander's cart.  "Hobgob, sir!"

            Hobgob turned, slightly annoyed, and answered "What is it, gob?"

            "My name isn't Gob, and we're approaching the human settlement."

            "I never called you Gob, gob.  How close are we?"

            "The humans have seen us, gob."

            "That's 'Hobgob', and thank you.  Now, get into position."

            The young gob ran back to his company, and Hobgob stood up from his seat.  

            "Men!  Today is a day different from the rest of days!  For too long we have accommodated the humans on land that should be ours!  This ends today!"

            Shouts, grunts, murmurs, and cheers rang out in reply.

            Hobgob continued, "The human settlement knows that we are approaching, and can undoubtedly smell our ferocious scent of war!"

            As if on cue, there was a cry from the city.  "Dear guardians, what a horrible stench!"

            Unfazed, he went on.  "Get into formations!  We fight!  Charge!!"  Thrusting his axe forward, the entire gob army broke into a headlong rush for the gates of the human settlement, Boot Hill.

            The ground shook as eight-hundred stout, stocky, and irate demi-humans charged forward, leaving Hobgob feeling a rush of adrenaline course through his system.

            He felt filled with power, and his spirit trembled in joy.  The energy of his forefathers flowed through him; he felt the courage of Gar Roughback, he could hear the thundering voice of Chief Gobzar, he became the strength of Ironbeard.  For a moment, he toyed with the idea of hearing his own name passed down through legends.  _From this day forward, I will be known as Stone Goblin.   Yeah, that's a good, strong name, _he thought.

            With this new fire burning within his essence, he leapt from his cart and charged with the rest of his men.  At the gates of the settlement he could see six humans holding their cowardly ARMs.  He could also see his men being torn apart by these same weapons.  He knew them all.  Shor Gumwood took a shell to his knee, and as hi fell, he took another in the chest, killing him instantly.  Argor Gram stopped to look at his fallen cousin, but a bullet to his head ended that and brought him down as well.  But this did not stop Hobgob or his men.  They pressed forward, determined to taste victory, desiring the honor of the gob race that had long been forgotten.

            Hobgob, now Stone Goblin in his mind, chose his target; the man who the survivors of the mansion incident had described as the attacker.  With his weapon poised, the man had lowered his stance, making himself appear no taller than Stone Goblin.  His lavender eyes were as fierce as a demon's.*  _A__ true warrior,_ thought the gob.  As his warriors were felled before they could even swing their pick-axes, he ran forward, shielding himself with the broad face of his battle axe. 

            The man with silver hair realized that he was the target of Stone Goblin's advance, so he turned his focus to the gob dressed in red.  Stone Goblin smiled; he and his worthy opponent were about to engage in battle.

            He took a chance and leapt as high as he could towards the human, and drove his axe down with as much force as he could muster.  Such an attack could have easily split a man in half; however, the man had rolled to the side.  Stone Goblin tried to pull his axe out of the ground, but his efforts were wasted.  The human fired three shots, and Stone Goblin fell to the ground, facing the sky.  He could hear the shouts of pain from his troops, and he could feel the ground rumble as they began their retreat.  A single gob ran up to him and tried to pick him up.  

            Gathering his remaining breath, Stone Goblin rasped, "No…go on, get out of here, gob…and tell my wife….I love her, gob…"

            The single gob displayed no signs of acknowledging his leader, and continued to try to lift Stone Goblin, an impossible task due to his bulky armor and massive battle axe.

            Stone Goblin was about to rebuke his underling, when suddenly he felt another pair of hands grasp him by his feet.   Oddly enough, they felt tiny.  He lifted his head to see who had grabbed him, and was surprised once again upon viewing the one responsible.  While the gob at his shoulders tried to lift him, a small human female, probably a young child, attempted to lift his legs.  Through their combined efforts, Stone Goblin soon found himself in the back of his cart, fleeing the city.  Before he left, he heard the little girl say, "Go back to your wife, and tell her yourself."

            Stone Goblin was stunned.  Here, he had been trying to drive these creatures out of their homes, and upon being defeated, they still show him kindness?  He raised his head a bit to see the little girl, who seemed conflicted about her decision to help the enemy.  He felt the urge to make her choice seem like the right one, so he smiled a weak smile at her.  She stood still for a moment, then nodded and smiled back.  Satisfied, Stone Goblin rested his head back down, and stared into the sky.

            _Not only did I underestimate their strength, I may have also misjudged their spirits.  Perhaps they_ should _have the blessings of the planet._

And with that, all conscious thought left his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

=========================================================================

_* No, not the metal demons.  Just demons in general.  No metal demons in this fic.  Sorry, Quarter Knight fans…_

**A/N:**  Well, that was interesting.  I don't really have much to say tonight…odd…  
  
**Trina:  **Well, might as well get it over with.  Shoots the author

**A/N:  **Right, right…..Dies

**CRRS:**

**JayJay****-Sawada:**  You know someone like Maya?  This person doesn't hang out with talking cats and guys stuck in the wrong decade, do they?  ^_^

**Teefa85: ** Not as much of a battle chapter as I thought it would be…  More like a goblin version of Braveheart.  With less violence.  And not a single human mentioned by name!

**Skylark Starflower:  ……**.Who let the gobs out?!  (Grunt, grunt, grunt, grunt)  Who let the gobs out?!    Bleeds from ears

**Hypes:  **Honestly, the mute thing was originally just a joke to make it easier to write her, but then I realized it'd probably be a good and original idea, so here it is!  

**Black Waltz 0:  **More gobs than any human can tolerate, today, on HawkPerch!   

Gob:  You slept with my sister!  
Hobgob:  But she's my auntie!

Gob:  Well, I was sleeping with her first, gob!

Hobgob:  I'm gunna kill yoo!   Lunges for Gob

Heh heh heh……

**aya-yahiko****:**  Let's just say that Maya will get her revenge, someday…..   ^_^

Thanks for the reviews, guys!   And I apologize for taking so long on this chapter…..

Stay tuned for Chapter 9!


	9. Moon Shaded Wings

**Chapter 9**

**Moon Shaded Wings**

**A/N:**  I lost the original AN.   This is a placeholder.   Thank you.  ^_^

**Trina:**  You're not getting away that easily…  Shoots him

===============================================================

Damn, I'm tired…

            I know that I was complaining about it a while back, about not having any jobs, and I should be thankful, but I had my hopes set high for all this.  I was supposed to be taking down a legend, a myth, the fabled Maxwell Rose.

            But so far, I've been facing the reality that this is never going to happen.  Rose was never here at Boot Hill.  In fact, the only lead I found got me into some kind of inter-species war, and nothing else.  So it's understandable that I'm tired…

            Something that I found odd about Boot Hill is that there wasn't an inn.  No overnight tavern, no bed-and-breakfast, nothing.  So I suppose I'm damn lucky that Tesla and Shalte gave me a spare room.  I can't say that they trust me – they're as nervous as ever now – but they certainly are grateful for my help in the battle the other day.

            Well, as much of a waste of time as this venture has been, there have still been some interesting moments, and plenty of new questions.  There's something about this family and that girl, Virginia, that seems suspicious.  I seriously doubt this has anything to do with Rose, but the situation does seem to demand my attention.  Something _has _to explain why those two are always so tense.

            But how do I start?  Those people have been awfully generous even though they distrust me.  I can't just jump in and start interrogating them, they don't deserve that.  On the other hand, I can't just pussyfoot around the issue, either. 

            Ah, screw it.  I'll worry about it tomorrow; I'm going to sleep.

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_The rose…_

_There's dew building up on a corner…_

_I…._

_I have to get rid of it…_

_Toss it away…_

_Why?_

_Why did I do it?_

_Where is the rose?_

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            A few hours passed by, and night soon overtook the room.  What was once already shaded grew darker as the shadows of objects stretched, filled out, and eventually merged into one another.  Still, small rays of moonlight fell through the window, preventing the room from disappearing into the void.  Just like at Baskar, the night created an ethereal atmosphere.

            Something caused the young man to stir from his rest.  He groaned, swung his legs off the side of the bed, sat up, and placed his head in his hands.

            "Why do all of my dreams work like that?" he muttered into his palms.  He really wasn't expecting an answer, which is why he jumped when there came a knock on the door.  Regaining his composure, he grumbled "Come in."

            With Maya, Jet never had any qualms of being caught in nothing but his shorts.  In fact, they used to walk into each other half-naked at least twice a day.  They rarely thought much of it.

            So it took Jet a few moments to realize why Virginia had stopped dead in her tracks upon entering.  They both stared at each other in shock for a few moments, until Jet snapped back to consciousness a pulled up a blanket, prompting his visitor to dash from the room.

            Once she left, the boy scrambled to get his black shirt and a pair of jeans, and quickly slipped into them.   "Okay, I'm decent," he whispered.

            Slowly, Virginia re-entered the guest room.  She stopped in the middle of the floor, and started to glance around.  Jet watched her curiously as she examined her surroundings, wondering what she was doing.  Especially this late at night.  "What are you doing?" he asked, though he knew she couldn't answer.

            She didn't even attempt to respond.  All she did was brush past him a grab his jacket from the chair in the corner.  She tossed it to him, walked to the door, and indicated that he should follow her.

            He stood still for a moment.  This really was an awkward situation, but realized that this may be an opportunity to find some answers.

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            We quietly slipped out of the house, around three in the morning, and out into the night.  The air was cool tonight, partly due to the weak breeze that manifested every few seconds.  Almost immediately, I felt more comfortable than I had in weeks.  This night was perfect, the kind that all wandering Hawks dream of.  Even the sky was utterly clear.  I looked up at the stars, and was slightly surprised at how easily I did.  Funny, the other night I couldn't bear to face them.  

            I certainly felt more at ease out there than I did in that house….

            Virginia strolled on ahead, down the path leading to the city gates, just staring of towards the horizon.   Whether or not she knew I was still following her, I couldn't tell.  So I kept behind her, unaware of our destination.

            It was only when we reached the arch of the Boot Hill sign that I realized how quiet this town was.  It was actually louder out in the wilderness, even though there was only a few crickets out there.  

            She turned to me and pointed out to the west.  

            "Is that where we're going?" I asked.

            She nodded to me, and then set off in that direction. I trailed behind, hoping that our destination wasn't too far away.

            We walked for roughly an hour, and we passed nothing of real interest.  However, even if we had come across anything significant, my host wouldn't have noticed.  Whatever her intentions were, she was obviously focused on them.  She just looked straight ahead as we meandered across the plains.  I couldn't help but be curious about this, given my suspicions of this girl and her family, and so I frequently found myself gazing at her, trying to read her.  

            Usually, I could tell a lot about a person just by looking at them.  And when they opened their mouths, they frequently reinforced whatever preconceptions I had made of them by glancing.  But for some reason, and besides the fact that she can't talk, I couldn't form any such hypotheses about her.  It's intriguing, but frustrating at the same time.  I have to find out more about Virginia and her family, or else I'll go insane wondering.

            Now that I think about it, I'm just as distracted as she seems to be.  We could've passed by Moor Gault playing poker and neither of us would've noticed.  I need a drink….

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            Sitting cross-legged in the high grass, a thin young man with long, blue hair snacked on a pear from his pouch.  He held the fruit in his left hand while he rested his head on his right fist.  He scanned the area around him with mild disinterest, and looked about ready to nod off at any moment.

            Not far from him lay another man, this one of a more average build, though imposingly tall, with straight black hair that seemed to be pulled back by a ponytail, but in fact was merely slicked back.  However, once his hair passed his neck, it all massed into a curled mess.  This man simply stared off into the night sky, resting against the bare earth.

            The smaller of the two spoke.  "I'm losing interest here, bro.  Are we gonna kill something in this stupid plan of your or what?"  He tossed away his pear, and began to twirl a pocketknife in his fingers.

            "Just relax, Harry," responded his 'bro,' "I have a hunch that my plan is going to work."

            "Whatever, Ron.  But you don't actually think that Rose'll still be around here, do ya?  We're wasting our time, that lead was too old!"  His face suddenly twisted into an impish grin.  "We should be out having fun."

            Ron closed his eyes and sighed.  "Just trust me on this, brother.  Trust me."

            Harry grunted in defeat, and resumed glancing around the vicinity.  A hint of movement caught his eye.  "Hey Ron, somebody's coming."

            The bigger man sat up a bit and looked to where his brother had been pointing.  From his long, red coat, he produced a pair of binoculars and looked off into the distance.  "Hm….ah, it's just two kids."

            "Let me see!"  called a rather excited Harry.  He scrambled over to the taller man and snatched the binoculars.  "Aw, damn.  You're right."  However, something made him look again.  "Wait…  That boy over there has silver hair."

            "What, you think it's Enduro or something?"

            "It has to be.  He's just the same as when I saw him at the battle arena in Gunner's Heaven."

            "Harry, I have an idea."

            The thinner brother smiled sadistically.  "We're gonna challenge him, aren't we?"

            "Heh.  Just imagine the publicity and recognition we'd get if we were able to take him out."  With that, Ron pulled an oversized, double-barrel shotgun from his coat.  "You wanna borrow my sidearm, Harry?"

            "What, that old Beretta?  Nah, I'm good."  To prove his point, he slipped on a pair of steel gauntlets.  "I like to feel the bones of my enemy breaking under my fists, anyway."

            The taller brother laughed, and the two grabbed what they needed and ripped through the night.

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            "How much longer, Virginia?"  muttered Jet, a bit fed up with wandering, no matter how nice the night was.

            In response, she held up five fingers.

            "Five minutes?  Five miles?  Five hours?  What?"

            She just silently laughed and kept walking.  

            "Damn it, why can't you –"  Stopping suddenly, he took a look around.  "Virginia, stop."  When she did, he moved into the point position, and readied the Airget-lamh.  Virginia drew her ARMs as well, and quietly followed his lead.

            A shotgun blast knocked the gun out of Jet's grip, causing him to jump backwards.  He called out "Who's there?!"

            "The great Jet Enduro, can't even hold onto his weapon, eh?"  remarked the frail looking man who stood up from the nearby field of tall grass.  

            "Come on, Harry, give him a break.  We did get the drop on him, after all," answered his larger companion from over by the cliff face.  The barrel of his ARM was still smoking.

            "Damn it, Ron, you take the fun out of everything," replied the one now identified as Harry.

            "Who the hell are you guys?!" questioned an irate Enduro.

            Harry snickered before answering.  "We're just you're run-of-the-mill pair of Migrant Hawk brothers, and we have a little surprise for you!"

            Ron continued.  "Yes, we want to play a game…"

            On that cue, Harry dashed towards Jet, the moonlight glinting off his fists.  The boy couldn't believe the speed at which the weak-looking man was coming at him.  Virginia raised her pistols towards Harry, but a scattering of bullets at her feet sent her diving into the nearby grass field.  

            Harry struck out with a right hook, which Jet barely avoided.  He tried to counter with a knee to the stomach, but Harry had already swung with his other hand, and caught the boy in the sternum, knocking the wind out of him.  With jab to the face, Jet fell to the ground, bleeding from his lip.   

The azure-haired Hawk grinned and quipped, "We take our games seriously, as you can see."  He kicked the boy in the ribs, rolling him onto his back.  Placing a foot on his victim's neck, he finished, "We don't like to lose, ya know."

Off in the fields, Virginia struggled to stay out of the sights of Ron, who had amazing accuracy with such a clumsy weapon.  Whenever she so much as rose an inch above the greenery, he was able to blast shells within feet of her position.  In fact, in one such occasion he managed to graze her back, not really causing an injury, but enough to cause intense stinging and some bleeding.   She would have screamed out if she could, though more out of anger than out of pain.  It didn't look like she'd be getting out of this mess.

Harry continued knocking Jet around the plain with sadistic glee.  Each blow seemed to make him grin wider, and soon he was giggling like child.

Unfortunately for him, his laughing distracted him from the fact that he was kicking Jet right towards Airget-lamh.  Jet saw his opportunity coming, so he continued to act like a rag doll as Harry laced into him.  As soon as he rolled over it, Jet grabbed his ARM and swung it upwards, hoping to get a shot at Harry's chest.  Instead, he miscalculated and wound up delivering the frail man a glancing blow below the belt.

Letting out a yelp, Harry crumpled and fell, cringing in pain.  Jet, who had yet to stand back up, blinked in silence.

Virginia soon realized that she was running in circles.  She recognized her own blood staining the weeds and grass in the field.   To her left, she heard Ron cackle and boast, "I feel like a mongoose chasing a snake in the grass!"  A fatal error on his part.  Years of silence had allowed the girl to fine tune her sense of hearing, and she was able to zero in on Ron's position from that outburst.  Pointing her guns, she fired two shots.  A grunt was followed by a thump, and she knew that she had hit her target.  Just to make sure, she ran over to check his fallen form.  Laid out in the grass, with his shotgun just out of reach, was Ron's body.  He was still alive, but a bullet in his stomach and another in his right shoulder effectively removed him from the battle.

Harry didn't look ready to get back up, either.  Clearly this man had never been hit in the groin. Jet, more pissed off than before, snatched Harry's ponytail and yanked him to his feet.  Shoving the barrel of Airget-lamh into his mouth, he spat, "Get the fuck out of here," and then dropped him to the ground.   

Harry stumbled over to his brother, passing Virginia on the way.  As she approached, Jet asked "What about his bro?"

In response, she pointed off to the fields, turning her back to him.  While she watched Harry try to support his brother's weight and escape, Jet noticed the wounds she had.   Quiet filled the air again, and the only evidence that anything had happened was the blood in the grass field, and a few scattered shell casings.

Moments later, Jet muttered, "I don't suppose that was what you dragged me out here for, was it?"  He wasn't entirely certain, but from looking at her, it seemed that she would've giggled if she could.  Neither of them seemed to be badly wounded.  Jet had a few bruises here and there, and Virginia only had the cuts on her back, which happened to damage her coat more than anything else, really.  So, they sat for a while, resting and thinking.

Jet broke the silence again.  "I'll bet you're wondering what that was about, huh?"  She nodded, and he continued.  "Those guys were Hawks, I guess, and they're probably looking to make a name for themselves by beating me in a battle.  I'm not sure if you know or not, but I happen to be one of the best Migrant Hawks around."  

Virginia let out a sigh, which Jet interpreted as an "Oh, okay…"

            "Heh, this isn't the first time this has happened, actually."  After some silence, he continued, "I'll tell you about it on the way back to town."

            After some quick bandaging, the pair headed back east towards Boot Hill.

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**A/N:  **Heh, look at that, a nice long one!

**Trina:** Yeah, I'm surprised.  

**A/N:  …**I must seem like an imitator by having you in these A/N's, don't I?

**Trina:  **Possibly, but otherwise I wouldn't be able to do this on a regular basis.  Shoots him

**A/N:**  Ah, cool.  Dies

**CRRS:**

**Teefa85:**  Well, no secrets revealed this time around, but there will be some upsets soon enough!  ^_^

**JayJay****-Sawada:  **Heh…that's a fun coincidence…  What decade, anyway?  60's? 70's?  Heh heh.  ^_^

**Black Waltz 0:  **Aww…I wouldn't say mind-melting…well…okay, maybe I would. 

**Hana**** no Kaze:**  Hee hee….thanks!  I just hope my ego doesn't overinflate!  ^_^  All kidding aside, thanks for the comments.  Sometimes I feel like my work is subpar compared to all the rest, so I really appreciate it.  But…uh….that doesn't mean I demand sympathy or nuthin…erm….that is…erm…  Oh no, I've gone crosseyed….   ^_^

**Hypes:**  Gobs have the most entertaining accent to write, gob.  And the confusion such an accent would cause.  ^_^

**Skylark Starflower:**   Hey…what's that supposed to mean?  ^_^  Just kidding.  And please don't hit me with Angel again….the stuffing hurts….

**aya-yahiko****:  **Yup, she's mute alright.  And what kind of supermarket would carry something like that?  ^_^


	10. Judgment Call

**Chapter 10**

**Judgment Call**

**A/N:** I may be taking a chance by having this A/N up here, but who cares. This is a saved document for a reason. So, without further ado, the long awaited (…sure.) next chapter of **A Hawk's Perch!**

Oh yeah… Heart of Sword is an awesome song if you can actually listen to the full version.

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Two days later, and I still don't know why she dragged me outside that night. I had almost forgotten about whatever her hidden intentions were thanks to those two Hawks, but I'm too sharp to just forget something like that. I never miss these things. A person couldn't be in this business for long if they mishandled observations like that one. Virginia hasn't even _attempted_ to explain why we took that walk, and it's making me nervous. I hate not knowing a person's motives. You can't read a person like that. You can't tell what they're gonna do, or who they'll do it too. There's nothing scarier than that, let me tell you.

However, there is one thing that can knock my train of thought of its tracks, and that's the smell of an actual meal. Sort of like the odor I'm detecting from the stairwell down the hall from this guestroom. A home cooked dinner is a rarity in this profession, and better Hawks than me have fallen prey to the whims of a good cook. I guess that has something to do with that saying, "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

Damn…that train derailed quick….

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The creaking floorboard on the top step was the least of the family's problems. Though it would be a minor inconvenience to replace it, neither Shalte nor Tesla made an effort to have it fixed. Besides, it served as a quaint way of letting anyone in the kitchen know that someone was coming downstairs. The house just wouldn't be the same without it. So, for years it remained like that.

And once again, the groaning plank served its purpose, announcing Jet's descent down the stairs. The noise was the sort of thing that he would have noticed if he wasn't so preoccupied with the scent of a real dinner.

It seemed that the third time was the charm, because now that Jet had fought alongside Virginia at the manor, again at the city gates, and once more in the fields, Shalte and Tesla no longer appeared pensive around him. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes," announced the girl's aunt, not once looking up from her work, but still with a smile. Jet had nothing else to occupy himself with, so he sat at table in the same spot as he had every day since he came to Boot Hill, content to merely take in the aroma of food.

To his left, he noticed a large stack of boxes and barrels against the wall. It wasn't the first time he'd seen them, but this was the first chance he had to get a real good look at them, seeing as he had nothing else to do. At first, he just passed them off as crates of food and such, or possibly some sort of commodity that the family dealt in. But then, Jet noticed what looked like the corner of a doorframe behind one of the boxes. Before he could move, speak, or even think more on the subject, the middle-aged woman called out "Dinner is ready!" and started to dish out servings.

And once again, Jet's train of thought made another unscheduled stop.

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After dinner, I tried once again to figure everything out, but I was having no luck. I couldn't go five minutes without being distracted in this house. So, I decided to go out into the fields for a while. Grabbing my boomerang and the Airget-lamh, I left my room, made my way down the stairs, passed through the kitchen, and walked outside. I didn't stop until I was a good ten minutes from the city.

The weather was rather calm that day, with a mild temperature that matched the equally mild breeze. Taking a casual look around, I spotted a tree about a hundred feet from where I stood. Looked like a good target, too.

Hefting my boomerang, I took a few practice swings before fully concentrating on the tree. For a second, I stood motionless, and then, with a yell, I sent the weapon flying through the air. It started gaining altitude as it sailed to the left of the target, and then immediately descended as it arced back in. The pull of gravity added a considerable amount of force to the boomerang, and thus it had no trouble slicing clean through the tree. While the top half of the dried oak tipped backwards off of its stump, I snatched my projectile out of the air by the strap attached to its backside.

Then came the applause…

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Taken by surprise, the boy dropped his weapon, and it imbedded itself about an inch into the dirt underfoot. He whipped around, wondering just who his audience was.

"Oh, Clive, it's you…."

"You've gotten better with that thing since the last time I saw you use it, Jet. Good job." The older man strolled over to the cleaved oak to examine the cut, while the younger man yanked his boomerang out of the ground. "A nice, smooth cut, too. Well done,_ boy_." He said the last part with a chuckle.

"Get to the point, _old_ man," Jet retorted, with a hint of a smirk on his face. "I know that you must have something else to tell me."

Strolling back towards him, Clive nodded. "You're right, I do. But if you don't mind, I'd rather we talked after I've had something to drink."

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The pub at Boot Hill was quiet as usual, only this time it was nearly empty as well. After ordering a round at the bar, the two men found a table in the far corner and sat down.

Jet spoke first. "Are you really going to make me wait for the drinks to get here, or are you gonna tell me what's going on now?"

"I guess there's no point in waiting, is there?" Clive cleared his throat before continuing. "It's about Rose."

Jet really wasn't sure why the man paused, and was getting annoyed. "Well, what about him? Ah, or her, I should say…"

"Yes, you should say 'her'. Maxwell Rose is indeed a woman."

"Wow, so that narrows it down to half the world's population…" Obviously Jet wasn't really impressed yet.

"No, no, you see, my informant knows who Rose is. Sort of."

Another pause. "Stop stalling, you son of a bitch! Who is she?!"

Clive chuckled at the young man's outburst, and then leaned over the table while motioning for Jet to do the same. Speaking quietly, he said "You see, I learned that "Maxwell" is Rose's last name, and so a friend of mine looked into the family background, and it turns out that one of the few remaining branches of the lineage lives right here in Boot Hill."

"And?"

"Well, what else can I say? The family is here, so maybe Rose is, too."

"Wait…."__

"Jet? What's with the dumbfounded look?"

The boy sat back in his chair. "Are you certain that's right?"

Clive also assumed a more comfortable sitting position. "Yes, I'm sure."

Suddenly, all of his thoughts from the last few days overtook him at once. _I was never able to read** her**…_ Suddenly, he shot up from his chair and headed for the door.

"Jet? What are you doing?"

Without so much as turning, he yelled back to the taller traveler "Stay right there!"

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I just knew there was something going on with this family! I knew it! And yet, for some reason, a part of me didn't want to think that _this_ was the secret I'd been trying to find.

Out in the streets, there was a commotion going on as a crowd of villagers pressed towards the city gates. Not being one for mobs, I used a few conveniently place crates and barrels to climb onto the roof of the pub, and then made my way to the exit via rooftops and walls. From here I saw what everyone was all up-in-arms about; Virginia was making short work of a beastly looking monster. That really didn't surprise me at all, though, and I had to wonder why these folk made such a big deal over a simple kill.

Satisfied that the creature was dead, she gave one of her ARMS a quick spin before setting them both back into their leather, rose-pattered holsters.

_Shit, how did I not see those before? _Sitting right outside the city walls, I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the piece of evidence that brought me here in the first place. Without a doubt, the shred I held in my hand was identical to Virginia's holsters.

"You _are_ Rose," I muttered, not really loud enough for anyone to hear me. Not wasting anymore time, I made my way through the dissipating crowd, and headed back to the bar.

Thankfully, Clive had done what I'd told him, and was still seated at our table in the corner; only now, our drinks had shown up. I took my seat back and downed the glass in front of me.

"Call the Ark, Clive. She's the one."

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**A/N: **It's unbelievable that it took me so long to write…well, _this._ Ah well, at least I finally hit a major plot point for once.

And Jet's boomerang is sounding like Sango's Hiraikotsu at this point…

**CRRS for Chapter 9:**

(Yeah, I miss mah carrot-underscore-carrot faces. Just pretend that they're in there somewhere.)

**Teefa85: **Yes, where _was_ hero being led to? And for what reason? Suspense fills the air! Or not. Anywho, I can see Harry voicing Malik. I mean, they both are pretty creepy.

**Black Waltz 0: **Heh heh, ignorance is something that I can write well, as I have a lot of experience in that department! Oh, and… "I don't care if he is an attempted rapist, you never give a man a shot in the pills. It's just not cricket." Aren't quotes fun?

**Hana**** no Kaze:** Yep, losing/not having an ability lets you devote the extra attention to other abilities. I think, at least. Maybe I shoulda researched this 'mute' thing…eh heh…

**psychedelic**** aya: **I left a worse cliffie this time…for I am evil, and I feed off the anxiety of others! Mwa ha ha! Would a gob need a chew toy?

**Hypes:** I'm so sorry…I've been a bad boy lately… I don't think I've reviewed more than three times in the last two months, and I don't know why. Sorry…

(Heh, Ron and Harry do sound generic, but they were Ch 9's anime reference. I just really wanted to slip Outlaw Star's MacDougall brothers into a story somewhere. Just…without Harry's creepy stalking and raping.)

**Skylark Starflower:** This one is shorter. Am I gonna get thwacked?

**JayJay****-Sawada:** Heh heh…I wonder who else I should have running around shirtless aside from Jet, then. Although…I really don't want to imagine someone like the Duke running around topless….ew…

**Kei-kun:­ **I'm glad you're enjoying it. I hope you like this chapter as well.

**Lorena guerrero: **It's one of my goals to keep them in character, even for an AU, and I'm glad that it's working so far. I just have to work on Jet and Clive a little more before I get them down right. Thanks for the review!


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